Words, words, words
by willshakespeare-immortalbard
Summary: My attempt at a 50 words fic: 100 words per drabble, 10 drabbles per chapter, until I get 50 words. All centered around Will and Palamedes, either concerning them (from someone else's POV), or directly featuring them. Rated T for possible triggers, violence, excessive angst, etc. FRIENDSHIP ONLY. Please read/review. Quote is from Shakespeare's "Hamlet."


**A/N—I don't own **_**The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel**_**: Michael Scott does. Absolutely nothing belongs to me. **

** Notes: Finally, I've decided to return to writing fanfiction for this fandom. Words can't describe, coming back to it, how much I've missed the Flamel world. Please bear with me, however, as I begin to feel out characters again…it's been a long while. **

** Notes 2: This was written using a random word generator. There is no rhyme, reason, or order to the words, and rarely did I pass over a word once I found a generator that worked for me. **

** Summary: My own take on a 50 words challenge. Each word will be explained by a 100 word drabble (published in sets of 10), and will either discuss something from Will or Palamedes POV, or discuss Will or Palamedes from someone else's POV. Rated T for possible triggers, violence, excessive angst, etc. FRIENDSHIP ONLY. Contains SPOILERS for **_**The Enchantress**_**! Please leave a review—tell me which one you liked best! **

* * *

**Parachute**

The leaves fell to the ground below like tiny parachutes. The wind caught them and ballooned them briefly upwards, where they twirled and tumbled with the grace of dancers, waltzing down when they had completed their spin. The ground beneath was invisible, cloaked by clouds, and the parachuting leaves pirouetted toward the smoky depths with more bravery than he could ever possess. They weren't afraid of the emptiness—they swayed into the unknown, completely unafraid.

But he was different. He would not twirl. He would not tumble. He would not waltz, or pirouette, or sway.

He didn't have a parachute.

* * *

**Burglary**

It's a crime, burglary.

Scathach can't help but think of burglars when she looks at Shakespeare. He's small—just right for crawling through windows and ventilation shafts; he's clever—smart enough to outsmart security systems and override machinery; he's charming—

And that's where his greatest strength is. He's charming, and everybody (_Palamedes included_) falls head over heels into starry eyed admiration.

Scathach can't help but hate Shakespeare. Before Shakespeare (BS), Palamedes was a warrior; Scathach had a friend. After Shakespeare (AS), Palamedes wasn't Scathach's friend anymore.

It's a crime, burglary.

_Since when has stealing something that isn't yours not been?_

* * *

**Grandiose**

The Yggdrasil was grandiose.

Will, despite his awe, couldn't bring himself to like it.

The grandiose had always unnerved him. He had shaken like a leaf when he first set foot in London. He had nearly wet himself when he first set foot in a theater (and not just from excitement). He had nearly passed out when Palamedes first uncovered his eyes and showed him the vast expanse of the junkyard.

The Yggdrasil was more than he could take.

Perhaps it was because—unlike London, the theater, and the junkyard—the Yggdrasil was something grandiose that he could not understand.

* * *

**Abduction**

The only word for it was abduction. They had been abducted by anpu—_can't you just say aliens, Palamedes? _(Will would have asked) _It sounds cooler_—and were being transported to some unknown location in a vimana—_a flying saucer; come on, you know that's what it is!_—to be…what?

Scathach would be thinking of a way to escape.

Joan would be listening to her every word.

Francis would be composing a song, trying to incorporate the humming of the vimana engine.

Will would be geeking out about flying saucers, aliens, and whatnot.

Palamedes, however, was just a little worried.

* * *

**Divorce**

One of the reasons that Will had decided to go into writing was because of the ability of the fictional to divorce one from reality. At twelve, sweeping Flamel's floors, it was a refuge from disappointment. At sixteen, struggling to capture the heart of a woman determined to shun him, it was a benefit that he utilized. At twenty-two, faced with raising a family on a glover's pay, it was money, and he took it. At thirty-two, reeling from the death a beloved son, it was a refuge from a pain he'd never thought he could experience.

He never left.

* * *

**Barricade**

By the time the Saracen Knight met the Bard, both men had ensconced themselves within a barricade.

The Saracen Knight had built his barricade to keep himself from caring for other people; he had built it to keep out the memories of Isuelt and all who had captured his heart and crushed it.

The Bard had built his barricade to keep himself from disappointment; he had built it to keep out the possibility of being both disappointing and disappointed.

Both had built their barricades securely.

It took nearly 200 years for them to figure out how to tear them down.

* * *

**Abandoned**

Was it possible to feel abandoned before somebody had left?

It had to be: how else could he name the sudden emptiness that rushed into his heart as he felt Palamedes' fingers tear away from his ankle? How else could he describe the sudden ache that took the place of the knight's hard grip above his the rim of his shoe, pressing through the thin fabric of his sock? How else could he explain the sudden abyss that swallowed his words before he had the chance to speak?

He had never felt so abandoned…so alone. And Palamedes wasn't even gone.

* * *

**Mob**

The anpu swarmed around them in a mob, pushing them back to back against each other. Palamedes counted heads as quickly as he could—_one, two, three, four, five, six_—and knew immediately that there was absolutely no way that they could win. There were more anpu than the two of them could take down just within his sight range, and (judging by the sound) there were many, many more behind the first ranks. It was sobering.

"We're not going to win this, are we?" Will asked with forced lightheartedness.

The mob charged before Palamedes had the chance to answer.

* * *

**Menace**

"Don't you diss my dog!"

"_Diss your dog_? Will, the creature's an absolute _menace_!"

"Do I complain about _your _animals?"

"T-they're not animals! They're _knights_!"

"Well, they act like animals."

"At any rate, my knights don't bite people."

"Really?"

"Really."

Palamedes edged into the kitchen, praying that the sparring immortals wouldn't see him. _I just want dinner…I just want dinner…I just want—_

No such luck.

"Do me a favor, Palamedes. Smack an ounce of sense into your roommate's head. His dog's a menace."

One look at Will made Palamedes' decision for him.

"I'm more inclined to take Will's side, Baybars."

* * *

**Heartless**

Will firmly believed that Scathach had no heart.

He saw it in every action—the way that she fought, killing as if it was engrained in her genes; the way that she could look at a person without ever seeming to see their emotions; the way that she pushed people away from her as if they were poisonous.

It frightened him, to be quite honest.

Palamedes and Scathach were _very similar people_. They were both warriors. They had both seen countless battles, and they had both been scarred by them.

If Scathach was heartless, _what was Palamedes?_

He didn't know.


End file.
